


In Another Life (The Only Words Are You And Me)

by LynxRyder



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Post-Avengers, Set during IM3, Spoiler warning for IM3, Steve dreams
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-13
Updated: 2013-05-13
Packaged: 2017-12-11 18:38:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/801894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LynxRyder/pseuds/LynxRyder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve has been out of contact with the world, deeply immersed in a mission that has pushed him to the limit. An imagined friendship with Tony has been his lifeline. But life has not stood still while Steve has been away. Sometimes dreams do not come true. Contains spoilers for IM3.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Another Life (The Only Words Are You And Me)

**Author's Note:**

> A sequel of sorts to Why Would You Wake Me (If You're Not Going To Save Me) - http://archiveofourown.org/works/784418 - but can be read as stand alone. 
> 
> Contains spoilers for IM3.

 

_A week before Christmas and it is still warm enough to sit on the balcony, Steve in a T-shirt, Tony wearing a black jumper with the sleeves rolled up. It's eleven in the morning but already there are cocktails on the table between them because, in Tony's words, why not? There are no rules here. It is just as Tony promised, a holiday from the world, and Steve feels truly free, perhaps for the first time since he emerged from the ice._

_They do not need to fill the silence with sound as they did a month ago when Steve first arrived, a suitcase in hand and reservations in his heart. It happened slowly, a slow release realisation that they can just be who they are with each other, there is no need to pretend._

_Steve closes his eyes against the sun. Immediately the sound of the sea crashing gently against the shore below becomes that much louder. He has never lived near the sea before, never had the chance to see it in its many moods, never appreciated how truly beautiful it is or how restful the sound._

_"Clearly," says Tony, apropos of nothing, "You have to stay for Christmas."_

_Steve smiles. He feared before he came that he would overstay his welcome, now he wonders when Tony will let him go. He opens his mouth to tell Tony he would love to stay if it's okay with Pepper when the ground shifts, dropping so suddenly that Steve finds himself clinging to the arms of his chair. His eyes fly open and his dream dissolves._

                Steve is not in Malibu in the sunshine. He is onboard a SHIELD jet flying back to New York and it is not Tony beside him but Natasha. She is curled up facing away from him, her hair falling so the bruise that discolours the left side of her face is hidden. Turbulence shakes the plane again causing Steve's stomach to lurch but Natasha sleeps on, undisturbed.

                To distract himself from the storm raging outside, Steve finds himself thinking of the mission now complete. For two months he and Natasha have been locked away from the world, gripped in their own private battle, consumed by the day to day operations that led them to the final showdown. So much has happened, too much, that Steve needs time to process it all - the revelations, the dangers, the shock, the potential repercussions. Steve sees them all, makes connections, loses them, feels again every emotion that he felt at the time but muted as if someone has placed a barrier around his heart.

                Natasha makes a soft noise in her sleep. It might have been a Russian word. Steve watches her for a while. He has learned a lot about her over the last eight weeks but there is an ocean still uncharted. Still, the very fact that she is asleep means that she trusts him and Steve knows well that trust means everything. He wonders if someone will take care of her upon their return, she might hide injuries well but that does not mean she has not sustained them, or whether she will simply plunge onto the next mission, an agent of SHIELD to the last. Steve finds himself wondering when she last took a holiday - the Black Widow temporarily forgotten - and the thought of holidays brings his thoughts straight back to Tony.

                His instructions were clear when he accepted the mission - he was not to contact anyone outside of his designated SHIELD contact, Maria Hill, until the mission was complete - but that did not mean that Steve forgot about the other people in his life. Over and over again, in those lonely, quiet moments when they were waiting for something to happen or Steve was trying to sleep, he would think of Tony's offer.

                "It wouldn't kill you to take a break, a holiday, somewhere hot," Tony had said, throwing it out there oh-so-casually, "...if you wanted to, you could come here."

                This invitation, though regrettably declined, had become a sort of lifeline for Steve throughout the dark weeks that had followed. Whenever things had become too hard, when Natasha got hurt, when they barely managed to escape with their lives, Steve would find himself thinking of the beach, of morning cocktails, of Tony explaining some new invention of his while Steve listened, not even trying to understand. It had become a habit, imagining this other life where he was happy and safe and enjoying a friend's company. Steve is just beginning to realise that it might be a hard habit to break.

* * *

 

                 Fury leads the debriefing. Steve tells him that he is willing to recount the details alone, sparing Natasha, partly because it is the right thing to do and partly because fighting for someone else has always come easier to him than fighting for himself, but Fury is having none of it. Steve meets Natasha's eyes and she shakes her head, just once. They sit down, the two of them on one side of a table, Fury, Maria Hill and an agent by the name of Carter on the other. The name gives Steve a jolt when they are introduced and very briefly he considers the possibility of a relation but Carter is a common name and he already knows from reading her file that Peggy never had any children. This tangent in his thoughts means that he misses something Maria says but he does not ask her to repeat it.

                Steve talks first, recounting everything he can remember of what transpired, prompted now and then by Fury. Mostly though he talks uninterrupted. He talks until his throat grows sore. Maria stands and fetches a glass of water which he swallows down in three big gulps. After that, Natasha takes over. The level of detail she is able to recall is staggering. Steve is asked to confirm certain points but mostly he is able to sit back and listen. He does not mean to zone out but he is bone weary. He feels hollowed out, empty, cold, and the lure of somewhere warm, even if it is imaginary, is too great.

                _Night fell hours ago. He should go to bed but in order to do that Steve would need to dislodge Tony who, from sitting beside him on the sofa, has somehow ended up asleep with his head on Steve's shoulder. Tony had been appalled to find out that Steve had never seen Last Of The Mohicans but despite pronouncing it an acting master class Tony had only managed to remain conscious for fifteen minutes. Having noticed the dark shadows beneath Tony's eyes Steve is in no hurry to wake him. He tells himself this is the only reason for remaining still and silent while the credits roll. He tries not to dwell on how it feels to have Tony pressed so close to him, to hear him breathing. It is a simple pleasure Steve has never known._

                "Captain?"

                Everyone in the room is looking at him. Fury is on his feet, his hands on the table, leaning forwards.

                "Sorry," Steve says automatically, "It's been a long night."

                "Yes," says Fury, "Time for us to wrap things up."

                Natasha disappears pretty soon after that. One moment she is beside him and the next he is alone. Steve does not hang around either. He has been offered a place in SHIELD headquarters but Steve prefers the illusion of autonomy his own place provides. A driver takes him home. It has started to snow, slowing the traffic to a crawl. Steve stares out of the window, the purr of the engine lulling him into a daze.

                 The air in his apartment is stale. Despite the temperature Steve throws open the windows. The cold does not bother him all that much especially once he is in bed. The sound of the city fills his mind, drowning out the pounding thoughts that would otherwise consume him. Eventually, to a lullaby of sirens, car horns and the rattle of construction, he falls asleep.

* * *

 

               Steve wakes hungry, thirsty and foggy minded. He only remembers fragments of his dreams. Tony's smile. A sense of belonging. The warmth of the Californian sun. When he throws back the covers the cold hits him hard. New York is not Malibu. Resisting the temptation to dive back under the covers, Steve runs around the flat shutting windows and checking radiators. It will take a while for the apartment to warm up but a cup of coffee provides a quick fix. Out of habit, Steve turns on the radio. Before the mission he had been trying to acquaint himself with modern music. It took him a while to find a station he could tolerate for longer than two songs but he settled on one eventually, the listening becoming part of his routine. As he sips his coffee, a woman with a powerful voice sings of a lover who has moved on. Steve likes the tune. He finds himself humming the chorus as he walks into the kitchen.

                He is fixing himself breakfast from the freshly stocked cupboards (courtesy of SHIELD) when he hears it. The radio is in the other room, the volume low enough to strain even his super soldier hearing, but he manages to catch the words 'Tony Stark'. He turns back towards the bedroom, a swelling warmth filling him that has nothing to do with the coffee he has consumed. He wants to catch the rest of the news. What accolade has Tony earned for himself now? Or perhaps it is time for another one of those swanky parties where the rich and famous congratulate themselves on being so rich and so very famous? Steve feels no bitterness, far from it, he is pleased. Tony does not know it but he has helped Steve through a terrible ordeal. Steve would be glad to know that life has been kinder to Tony while he has been away. He has taken half a dozen steps back towards the bedroom when the words 'terrorist attack' drop like stones.

                Petrified, Steve scrambles over to the radio, turning up the volume so high that the newscaster's voice fills the room but she has already moved on. Steve seizes the radio in both hands, shaking it, demanding without words that the news rewind itself and reveal to him what he has missed. When a new song starts, Steve throws the radio down. It hits the floor and goes silent, some vital part dislodged or broken. It is not like Steve to treat any object with disrespect but right now he would tear apart every single thing he owned if it would reveal to him the truth.

                His hands are trembling as they reach for the remote control. The television in the living room is far too big with far too many channels but right now Steve is glad of it. He cycles through the channels at breakneck speed relying on his instincts to stop him. A flash of red and gold is all it takes to stay his hand. The Iron Man helmet, a replica, is laid upon a raised dais by a weeping woman. Others are laying down flowers. There is already a whole bank of them, an impossible amount, suggesting days of effort. Steve stares, unable to take it in, unable to believe.

                "Mourners continue to lay flowers and tributes in front of the ruins of Tony Stark's Malibu home. Officially the search for Iron Man continues but there is little hope amongst the emergency teams gathered here today. America, it seems, must come to terms with the loss a true hero."

                It isn't real. It cannot be real. Steve is still clutching the remote with numb fingers as the wreckage of Tony's home is shown. The entire side of the cliff has been blasted away, the bare shell of the remaining house teetering precariously. Steve is familiar with the scale of the damage, or he should be for he has seen far worse, but his brain is not processing the information properly. He keeps waiting for things to start making sense. Because Tony Stark cannot be dead. It is impossible. Steve can feel the pull of each breath as it enters his lungs. His chest is aching like he has been beaten but broken ribs hurt less than this, everything hurts less than this.

                "In yesterday's statement the President spoke of Iron Man's services to his country..."

                Each word stings. Steve presses mute. It's not true. Fury would have told him. He would have recalled him from the mission early or, if that were not possible, he would have broken the news in the debriefing. Yes! Hope breeds certainty and suddenly Steve is searching for another piece of technology.

                His Starkphone - a gift from Tony - comes to life in his palm. For a second he hesitates and then he finds the number he seeks. There is no ringing, no familiar smooth English voice asking to take a message, and, of course, there is no Tony. The beep-beep-beep of a failed connection strikes at Steve's heart. His next call, following so quickly on from the first that he does not have time to dwell on what no connection might mean, is to Fury.

                He is on hold for ten minutes. The entire time Steve stands rigid. He tells himself that he is about to hear the reason for the news and the phone and the lies.

                "Captain."

                Fury sounds even more stern on the phone. Steve can sense the scowl. No doubt he has disturbed the Director. Steve does not care.

                "I..."

                Steve knows what he wants to say but his voice emerges in a croak. He clears his throat and in doing so he feels something shift inside him. He remembers the last conversation he had with Tony. The invitation to stay with him that he had denied. Regret twists inside Steve's gut. He might have been there. Maybe if he had been with Tony...no, stop, wait for the explanation.

                "I need to know the truth."

                "You have been debriefed," says Fury irritably, "Any information we have has already.."

                "Don't!" Steve's voice bursts out of him. "I am not calling about the mission. I am calling about...about Ironman."

                He curses himself for not being able to say Tony's name out loud. He hates himself for that piece of cowardice.

                "Ah, yes," says Fury.

                Steve's stomach tightens. Fury is not rushing to explain. He is not saying anything at all.

                "There has been no confirmation," he says eventually, "Until we receive..."

                "Why didn't you tell me?" Steve demands.

                "There was no need for..."

                "I'm going out there."

                "No!" It is Fury's turn to raise his voice. "This is not your mission, soldier."

                Steve hangs up. The phone starts to ring a second later but Steve does not pick up. His heart is hammering as he waits for it to fall silent. The moment it does he tries Tony again. Nothing. No JARVIS. No Tony. Just nothing.

                 Steve has donned a jacket, pocketed his Starkphone and shouldered his shield. Normally he is a big advocate for preparation but he cannot stand the thought of sitting still any longer while other people search for Tony. SHIELD might want to keep their hands clean but Steve needs to be there, he needs to help. He needs to know.

                He flings open the front door. Every instinct is telling him to move forwards, to throw himself into the search, to lose himself to the physical and the practical. His thoughts are so tangled that he does not notice the person standing right in front of him. She throws out her hands to prevent him colliding with her.

                "Steve."

                Natasha is out of uniform but Steve is not fooled. She has been sent by Fury to stop him. Why else would she be here so soon after their aborted conversation? He intends to push past her but she says the only words that could make him stay.

                "We need to talk."

* * *

 

                They sit facing each other, Steve on the sofa, Natasha on a hard dining chair dragged over from the other side of the room. Her red curls fall strategically over the bruised part of her face but when she turns her head Steve can see the shadow. The guilt that he was not able to protect her punches deep and tells him that despite everything he is not completely numb.

                "Fury sent you."

                Natasha nods.

                "You knew."                                                                                           

                "Yes."

                "When?"

                "I was briefed on the plane."

                The plane? Steve sees again the huddled shape of Natasha sleeping beside him. She knew then. She already knew and kept her silence. He feels sick.

                "Why didn't you tell me?"

                "There was nothing we could do. It was already over."

                Her face is blank of emotion, her voice steady and calm. Steve opens his mouth but he knows he cannot control himself the way she can. He looks down at his hands clenched in his lap, hands that want to help, hands that want to fight, hands that want to find a way.

                "So he's...?"

                He sounds so choked, the complete opposite of Natasha's professional composure. Natasha leans forward and places one hand on his. Her touch is light, a simple connection.

                "We don't know, Steve," she says, "And that's the truth. All we can do is wait."

                Steve has nothing to say to that. It is Natasha who fills the silence. She tells him all she knows of The Mandarin. She describes the suicidal way Tony revealed his address in a direct challenge to the man responsible for endangering the life of his friend. She details the attack, her assessment clinical and detached. Steve sees past the number of missiles fired, imagining himself inside the house as explosions rock the foundations, shattering glass, turning solid concrete to dust. Natasha tells him that Pepper was inside the house at the time, and another woman, a Maya somebody, but they got out. Search teams are concentrating their search for Tony in the deep water. Natasha actually uses the word 'body'.

                At this Steve stands, turns and walks into his bedroom, shutting the door behind him.

* * *

                _Night fell hours ago. Steve stifles another yawn. He should go to bed but every time he makes a move to rise Tony finds some reason to keep him where he is. First it was a movie, then it was the specs for the latest war machine suit and now it's some kind of culinary delight that Steve just has to try._

_"Tony, please," Steve says, half laughing, "I haven't been this tired since New York."_

_The silence that falls is too sudden and too deep. Tony has frozen._

_"Go then," he says. His voice is dead. His eyes staring off into an abyss only he can see._

_"Tony..."_

_Steve takes a step towards him but Tony flinches away._

_"Tony, I didn't mean..."_

_But Tony is shaking his head, already trying to deny the naked fear that Steve has glimpsed._

_"It's fine," he says and he makes a decent attempt at airiness, "Goodnight."_

_He turns his back, a clear indication that Steve is to leave him but Steve does not move. How can he go now? The mood of the evening has been shattered. Tomorrow is Christmas Eve, they cannot start Christmas like this._

_"Tony..."_

_Steve has crossed the space between them. He is facing Tony's stiff back, wanting him to turn around._

_"Does that movie we watched have a sequel?"_

_It is such a lame attempt at recapturing the mood that Steve is not surprised that Tony ignores him. Words are not going to be enough._

_Steve reaches for him, placing his hands on Tony's arms. Tony jumps a little but Steve keeps his hands where they are. His heart is thumping. He has absolutely no idea what he is doing, he might be making things a million times worse._

_"Tony," he says softly, "You're safe."_

_He closes the space between them so his body is pressed up against Tony's back._

_"I won't let anything happen to you," Steve assures him, "I promise."_

Steve lies on his bed, on top of the covers, staring up at the ceiling. He would rather be out there, doing something, anything, trying to help, trying to find Tony, but Natasha has made it clear that SHIELD will not permit him to get involved. His phone is clutched to his chest. He is waiting, waiting for confirmation of one kind or another.

                One by one the little fantasies that have sustained him flare bright, each one a possibility, a dream, a glimpse into another life.

                "Please, God," Steve whispers, as the wreckage of his dreams surround him, "Please let him live."

                He concentrates everything he has into the prayer. He needs God to hear this one. He needs this more than anything.

                "Please," he says, "Let Tony live."

 

                Minutes later - maybe hours - Steve is jolted from his prayer. From between his clenched hands, his phone has started to ring.

 


End file.
